


A dinner to remember

by WinryWeiss



Category: Tintin (Comics), Tintin - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Drunken Confessions, Inspired by Indiana Jones, M/M, disgusting meals, drunken logic, it is so typical for him, seasoned adventurers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 09:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2304356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinryWeiss/pseuds/WinryWeiss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When in foreign country, you might experience the treacherousness of local cuisine. Sometimes it is unspeakable, sometimes it is memorable and sometimes it can lead to utterly unexpected outcomes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another pastiche/homage on Indiana Jones. Not a crossover.
> 
> I proudly present the (in)famous dinner from 'The Temple of Doom' in Tintin's interpretation. Including disgusting meals, drunken logic and the memorable line "I could have been your greatest adventure!"
> 
> Absolutely no beta or proof-read.

Drinking on an empty stomach wasn’t exactly the best idea. But that strong, local alcoholic beverage was the only edible thing during the whole dinner. And what a dinner it was. Just remembering that dreadful event made his stomach flinch. Such a courses. Scarabs, or whatever those bugs were. He had eaten insects before, during his naval past, somewhere it is considered delicacy, somewhere is nothing else to eat. But this ones were alive, for heaven’s sake! Next, snakes, friggin’, wigglin’, livin’ snakes stuffed into gigantic anaconda! Chilled monkey brains. And, oh god, that soup. It smelled wonderfully, but it was looking back at him!  
  
Short to tell, Captain Archibald Haddock hopes that he will never ever again experience such a dinner. But, on the other hand, the fact, that he didn’t throw up or fainted there on spot, made him extremely proud of himself. He used an excuse of sick stomach, which wasn’t an excuse at all, and left Tintin to ‘ _enjoy the meal_ ’. And Snowy was clever enough to leave with him.  
  
His stomach rumbled and Snowy growls in response. Oh, barnacles, they hadn’t had a decent meal for days. Since their rushed leave from Shanghai, when Tintin stormed in their hotel room, dragging them away from breakfast into a chase with Chinese mafia, boarding a suspicious plane. Which crashed. Seriously, how does that lad do it? Every friggin’ time they travel by plane, an ‘ _accident_ ’ happens.  
  
Irritated, he throws himself to his bed, that sudden movement promptly make his stomach protest. He will have a Hangover. Yeah, with the capital letter. Snowy jumps at him and starts licking his face.  
  
“Good boy. Yer feeling with me, right?”  
  
Determined knocking at the doors made Archibald wince a little. The young reporter steps into the room with a smile, hands hidden behind his back.  
  
“Oh, setting for the night already?”  
  
“H-hnn.”  
  
“That’s a pity, since I brought something you might like, Captain.” In one swift movement, like in a magic trick, Tintin reveals a silver bowl filled with fruits. Captain props himself up like a Swiss knife and yelps happily.  
  
Tintin chuckles. “I couldn’t help but noticed how hostile were your looking at local specialties.” Seating himself in the foot of the bed, he places the bowl between them and picks a single grape.  
  
“Oh, b-boy, yer an angel.” Captain hastily grabs an apple and bites into it hungrily. How could a simple fruit bring so much joy?  
  
Tintin laughs and scratches Snowy behind ears.  
  
“H-hope yer didn’t tr-tra-tasted t-those th-things.”  
  
“Captain, are you drunk?”  
  
Yes. “NO.” Too quick.  
  
“Captain.” Tintin pulls of his stern gaze.  
  
“M-maybe I’m litttle tt-tipsy.”  
  
“Breathe out on me.” Tintin leans forward.  
  
“Wh-WHAT?!”  
  
The lad coughs. “Captain!” He says, alarmed. “That’s not just tipsy. You must have drank at least whole bottle.” His brows furrows, forming the ‘you’ve been a bad boy’ expression.  
  
Tintin is close. Too close.  
  
And Archibald is just too drunk to hold back like he usually does.  
  
In a sudden, rushed movement, Captain grabs Tintin by shoulders, pressing himself to the boy and forcing their lips together.  
  
Tintin’s eyes widens with surprise and he freezes for a while. Then he pushes against Captain’s chest with all the force he possess.  
  
Archibald makes a ‘huff’ sound while landing on his back.  
  
“CAPTAIN!” shock and disbelief resonates within the ginger’s voice. “You are drunk and this is not the right thing to do! We will talk this over when you sober up.”  
  
When the doors slams behind his younger friend, Archibald simply blankly stares at the ceiling.  
  
Well …  
  
This is a fine mess.


	2. Chapter 2

Tintin notices Snowy only when he nearly cut him in halves by his own doors.  
  
Crumbs.  
  
Crumbs and great snakes.  
  
Crumbs, great snakes and blistering barnacles.  
  
And ten thousand thundering typhoons at the top.  
  
Captain had kissed him.  
  
He is drunk and he had kissed him. _Kissed_. But he is drunk.  
  
With a suddenly shaking legs, Tintin press his back to the heavy wooden doors, left hand shooting upwards to gently caress own lips, where the tingle from Captain’s beard is still sensible.  
  
 _Archibald Haddock had kissed him._  
  
Snowy watches with growing confusion how an idiotic grin spreads across his master’s face. Then the ginger suddenly jumps upward, grabs his snow-white fox terrier and spins with him around and around the room.  
  
“Whoa whoa wha ...” yelps Snowy.  
  
“He kissed me!” Tintin whispers unbelievingly. “ _He kissed me!_ ” then exclaims enthusiastically, still in low voice. Like if saying it aloud could bring a bad luck.  
In his ardour, he does not notice when one of the decorative columns silently slides back deep into the wall to reveal a secret entrance and an armed assassin.

  


* * *

  


Five minutes.  
  
Archibald desperately wants to rush across the hall to the other bedroom and make an apology. Barnacles, he would even beg for forgiveness on his knees.  
  
But he does need to calm down at first. To get control over himself again, or he will do yet another incredibly stupid thing.  
  
He does need to wait at least five minutes.  
  
Well, four and a half.  
  
Maybe three.  
  
Oh, Columbus.  
  
Tintin is the best thing he ever tasted.

  


* * *

  


It tasted so amazingly, even though it was scented heavily with that blasted alcohol.  
  
Tintin presses Snowy to his chest even tighter, oblivious to the dog’s sudden uneasiness and silent growling. The assassin sneaks behind the ginger, unsheathing a thin, nasty looking dagger. Snowy barks warningly and Tintin instinctively throws himself to the marble floor, causing the attacker to fall over him. Spotting the dagger, the young adventurer shifts himself for better angle and then kicks forcefully. Aiming excellently for the other’s face. The assassin growled furiously as his nose breaks, dropping the dagger, but nevertheless jerks forward like on springs, surprising Tintin and closing own hands around the ginger’s neck.

  


* * *

  


Drunken logic always wins.  
  
Archibald sensed an irrational wave of irk washing over him, the need to stand up and yell out his innermost thoughts. He struggles himself to his feet, glaring at the doors.  
  
How could Tintin, his sweet Tintin, said that kissing the one you love is not the right thing to do?!  
  
Captain starts to move slowly towards the doors.  
  
How could he, when he has no idea of how does it feels, huh? To be worried, days and nights when he is not with him, and even more when they are together, fighting for life. To sense own heart stops every time, every friggin’ time, when that boy does something risky, and, oh God, like it ain’t more than often. To love, with everything he has, everything he is. To **always** hold back.  
  
Oh, he will tell that lad, yes he will.  
  
What the deck is he doing? He turned on heels, pacing back to bed.  
  
Buuut, he couldn’t possibly make things worse, could he? Facing the doors again, he hurries forwards, only to stop still just one step before his goal.  
  
Should he really do it?  
  
Heck yes! He could always pretend a total blackout later.  
  
With those thoughts, Captain throws his doors open, steps into the hall and yells with his full voice, that one which could be heard on the other side of ship during a storm:  
  
“YER LISTEN, YER ACTION MAN!”


	3. Chapter 3

Tintin could hear Captain’s rumbling voice too clearly. It’s like the man is right in front of him and not behind closed massive doors.  
  
“YER DON’T KNOW A THING ‘BOUT WHAT I FEEL! ‘CAUSE, I’LL TELL YER, IN CERTAIN THINGS YER AS DUMB AS STONE!”  
  
The young reporter tries to fight out his way from the attacker’s grip desperately. How come, that it _always_ ends up like this? He does not know anyone in India who would want to get rid of him. All right, he does, but they are all under arrest. Aren’t they?  
  
“EVERY SINCE, YER LISTENIN’, EVERY SINCE YER CAME CRASHIN’ THROUGH MY WINDOW LIKE A THUNDERIN’ TYPHOON YER ARE, I LOVE YER!”  
  
Tintin could hardly breathe, but not because of the assassins arm wrapped around his neck.  
  
Snowy, finally spotting the right place in the tangle of struggling limbs, jumps forward with excited bark, diving his teeth into the soft flesh. The attacker yells out an “Aaarhg!” kind of sound, his hands leaving Tintin’s neck to soothe own aching ass.  
  
“THAT’S ALL YER GOTTA SAY?!”  
  
The ginger takes full advantage of his attacker inability, shoving his left knee into that mans stomach while demonstrating a fine example of his famous right hook. The assassin collapsing motionlessly.  
  
“TINTIN, THIS IS ONE NIGHT YER NEVER FORGET. THIS IS THE NIGHT I SLIPPED RIGHT THROUGH YER FINGERS. SLEEP TIGHT AND PLEASANT DREAMS.” Captain’s voice grew more frantic, nearly breaking down at the end.  
  
Tintin scrambles back to his feet, hands shoots to his sore neck, eyes frantically searching the room for another attacker. Noticing the secret entrance, his thoughts gallops to worst scenario. _If there’s a secret entrance in his room … there might be one in Archibald’s as well …_  
  
“No.” Suddenly, chill seeps into Tintin’s bones.  
  
The slamming sound could be heard and then, through a pair of closed doors carved from massive mahogany, come perfectly audible confession. “ **I COULD’VE BEEN YER GREATEST ADVENTURE!** “  
  
Tintin’s jaw drops in surprise while his brain tries to process what he just heard.  
  


* * *

  


Captain stares at his abused bedroom doors, sensing the embarrassment dancing thorough his whole body.  
  
What did he just did? Ooooo, Columbus, what did he just **did**!  
  
With legs suddenly turned jelly, he stumbles to bed, collapsing on his back and hiding his head under one of those frilly comfy pillows. Wishing desperately that the ground would just fall apart and swallow him on this very spot.  
  
How could he?  
  
How would he face Tintin after THIS?  
  
The doors are thrown open, said ginger standing there like The Devil on Doomsday, his face unreadable. The sight making Archibald sober at instant. Tintin breathes out sharply, stepping resolutely inside whilst slamming the doors shut. Archibald could not tear off his eyes away, clutching the pillow to his chest, afraid of moving even the slightest.  
  
“Be gentle.” Is all he manages to say.


	4. Chapter 4

“There’s no one.” Tintin sounds delighted.  
  
“What?”  
  
The ginger steps close to bed, turning round. “Nobody.”  
  
“T-Tintin, I'm right _here_.”  
  
“Yes, you are. Where else should you be?”  
  
“Wha…?”  
  
Snowy barks, sniffing around one of the marble columns carved to look like female dancer.  
  
“Ha!” exclaims Tintin, hasting to the statue, going directly over Archibald’s bed and it’s current inhabitant.  
  
Captain looks at his younger friend, who is eyeing the stone dancer suspiciously, then at their dog who tries to scratch his way underneath the statue, and then at the ever silent dancer with ample bosom, who smiles mysteriously. Pondering if any of those currently present in this room has remainder sane.  
  
“It **must** be here,” Tintin pouts.  
  
“Wh…?”  
  
Then the ginger grabs the statues breasts and pushes.  
  
Archibald senses the heat rising to his cheeks from such a sight, but before he could actually say anything, the whole statue soundlessly slides back deep into the wall revealing a secret passage.  
  
Tintin smiles triumphantly.  
  
“H… How, blue blisterin’ barnacles, did yer know ‘bout it?”  
  
“Well, it’s not such a big deal.” Curious as ever, Tintin steps inside the passage, but doesn’t venture far. “Somebody tried to kill me, using similar hidden entrance.”  
  
“Tried to **kill** yer?!” Captain drops the frilly pillow in surprise.  
  
“Y…”  
  
“And it’s **not** such a big deal?!”  
  
“Well, yes. I knocked him out.”  
  
Archibald stares at Tintin in disbelief, but then simply shakes his head with a silent: “Whatever.” He rose from the bed while searching his clothes for box of matches. “Deserved such a thing for havin’ sooo stupid idea.”  
  
Tintin giggles, whistles to theirs faithful dog whose white fur shines in the darkness of the passage far ahead, and returns to Captain’s rooms, Snowy at his heels.  
  
Archibald meanwhile lights up an oil lamp and claps his cap on tight with resigned sigh.  
  
“So, are we goin’?” He turns to his friend, prepared for everything. “Up to the unknown mysteries of this hostile palace.”  
  
They are standing face to face, barely a metre apart.  
  
Tintin’s features spreads to a huge grin.  
  
“What?” Captain is completely puzzled by the ginger’s sudden obvious ignorance of the hidden passage and secrets it holds.  
  
“Did you really meant it?”  
  
“Of course! When adventure calls, there’s no way to stop yer. All I could do is let myself drag into, coverin’ yer up.”  
  
“I am not talking about this,” Tintin nods his head towards the secret entrance. “I am talking about _that_.”  
  
“Oh. That.” _That_. D.A.M.N. “Yer,” Archibald swallows faintly, “heard it?”  
  
“I believe that the whole palace must have heard it.”  
  
“Oh. Ah. I mean … It’s not like that … well, it is, but not in that way. Or rather, yes, but … no, no, nevermind … I … I … maybe overdrawn it a bit. A bit lot. I didn’t …”  
  
The reporter sniggers, stopping Captain’s litany.  
  
“Archibald Haddock, I love you.”  
  
Saying this, Tintin throws himself forward, wrapping his arms around Archibald and pulls him for a clumsy kiss. Tiptoeing and leaning against him without restrain, his weight pushing unprepared and completely amazed Captain down. Archibald’s left arm shots up, clenching tightly the oil lamp, while the right fences in the air in futile attempt to take hold of something. His head hits the night table with loud thud, Tintin lands on him, accidentally kneeing his groins.  
  
“YEOW!”  
  
Snowy tilts his head to side, visibly amused.  
  
“Archibald!” Tintin takes Captain’s head into his hands whilst sitting on his lap, searching for injuries. “Are you all right?”  
  
“Owww. Oooh.”  
  
“Archie?”  
  
“Nothin’ I couldn’t handle.”  
  
They look at each other, suddenly burst into laughing, cuddling together, theirs foreheads touching.  
  
“There are people who want to kill us.” Captain gently strokes the strangulation marks on Tintin’s neck.  
  
“Uhm.”  
  
“Who did yer pissed off this time?”  
  
“Wonder …”  
  
Snowy yaps on them, mischievously wagging his tail.  
  
“We better sort out _that_ first.” Archibald points vaguely to the secret passage.  
  
“Oh. Right.” Tintin unwillingly stands up, helping Captain get to his feet.  
  
Archibald holds the oil lamp high in the air. “Ready for _another great adventure_ , mister reporter?”  
  
“You know,” Tintin smiles at his Captain, coyly entwines their hands together, “You already are my greatest adventure.”


End file.
